


Handsome stranger on the train

by liltwinflow



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dialogue Light, Forgive this is the first I've done matsuhana in months, M/M, Mentioned Kuroo Tetsurou, Minor Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:36:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23863147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liltwinflow/pseuds/liltwinflow
Summary: So what if he’s started to look forward to getting on the train? Loads of people get excited to go on trains. He definitely wasn’t excited to spend the next 40 minutes staring at the handsome stranger.In which Hanamaki had no interest in trains, until one day he did.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei
Comments: 23
Kudos: 126





	Handsome stranger on the train

Everyday, at the same time, Hanamaki would take the train home. Granted he wasn’t forced to work overtime and run late for his escape back into the comfort of his apartment, or the train hadn’t decided to screw him over by coming 10 minutes earlier _or_ an hour late. For the most part, Hanamaki rarely had any troubles getting home.

Everyday, Hanamaki would stand at the same station, the same platform, listening to the same playlist until the songs became too frequently heard and long overdue on an update. He blamed his colleagues for recommending great songs that he couldn’t go without hearing a hundred times minimum.

Today was no different. Hanamaki stood in the same spot, surrounded by the same amount of people, first in line to enter the train home.

His life wasn’t boring, Hanamaki enjoyed his jobs; he enjoyed greeting new faces, conversing with familiar faces and messing around so often he forgot he had a job to do. (Being scolded was something he was used to, a little telling off had never stopped Hanamaki before).

It was the going home part that became a routine to him, one he found he didn’t even need to pay attention to once he left the responsibilities of his jobs and stepped outside.

The train would come, partially filled with people who had gotten on beforehand, Hanamaki would enter and find a place to stand or sit then proceed to play games on his phone. His favourite part to the journey was winding up Oikawa once he had gotten bored of his games, people watching became a last resort. Still, Hanamaki was familiar with the individuals who would occupy the carriage with him at this time. The man with the glasses and funny beard who would always make it in the nick of time, the high schoolers who would talk much too loudly and the lady who made playing music seem like a challenge. Hanamaki would like to think he knew them all.

Except there was a different face in the carriage today, sat with headphones securely over his ears and a blank stare that made Hanamaki feel expressive. In all the days that Hanamaki had made it to this train, not once has he seen the man sat opposite him. A bag in his arms, long, lean legs spread for comfort. Hanamaki wasn’t blind to looks, and this man certainly was not lacking them or the eyebrows.

Still, Hanamaki shrugged it off and pulled out his phone once more. It was just another train journey.

Until it wasn’t.

People watching steadily knocked annoying Oikawa to last resort. It was merely a glance but Hanamaki found himself intrigued with who else entered the train that he wasn’t aware of, he couldn’t deny the part of him that wondered if he would ever see that curly haired, big browed, man again.

Hanamaki had almost lost all hope of seeing said man after a few days of the same familiar faces crowding him on the train. Of course there were people that only come on once, not everyone was like him. Hanamaki had long grown used to seeing handsome or pretty strangers pass him by and leave him to ponder their beauty. He only wished he had gotten a better look at this stranger’s face.

Soon enough, Hanamaki was standing at his platform once again. Foot tapping to the beat of a newly recommended song as he waited for the train doors to open. He stepped inside, skimmed the carriage for a place to sit and settled down. It was only then that he noticed.

The handsome stranger was back, sat in the same seat as before only this time he was on his phone. Black nail varnish, nice. Hanamaki couldn’t help but look down at his own nails, multicoloured and surprisingly well kept for now. He enjoyed bright colours, random and mixed styles. The bushy browed stranger seemed to prefer smart casual, Hanamaki wondered what kind of things he got up to during the day.

The stranger shifted, Hanamaki averted his gaze. As far as people watching could be considered creepy, Hanamaki would rather not be caught blatantly staring. He took out his phone and occupied himself for the rest of the journey.

He missed how the stranger spared him a glance in return.

Today would make the third day that the handsome stranger was on the train before him. Hanamaki hoped it would become a common occurrence. The carriage was slightly more packed than usual, Hanamaki was forced to stand as he entered – the only downside being that it was significantly harder to look at the stranger now that he was standing. Hanamaki guessed he would get on at a time were there were seats still available, at least that would explain how he’s managed to get the same seat all three times he’s boarded.

Today the stranger wore earphones instead of headphones, from this height Hanamaki could see that not only did the stranger paint his nails but he had piercings. Just what he needed; a handsome stranger who _also_ liked piercings. Hanamaki wondered where else he could have possibly pierced, did he like tattoos?

He was getting too ahead of himself, Hanamaki shook his head and gripped the handle above him tighter. Just what was so fascinating about an expressionless stranger? And why did he become so reluctant to depart first.

The stranger wasn’t there for the next four days. Hanamaki found himself disappointed each day he entered to someone different sat in their seat. It was weird, he knew it was weird, to be so attached to someone he knew absolutely nothing about. He hadn’t even spoken to the man! Yet here he was missing his stupid bushy eyebrows and curly hair.

It was a Monday when the stranger next appeared. Hanamaki was surprised to see his lanky form in that space once again. He didn’t smile, he definitely wasn’t filled with a wave of happiness over seeing him. Nope.

His handsome stranger was sleeping, head tilted back against the pane of the train and lips parted ever so slightly. From his seat, Hanamaki could just about tell that they were drier than his own glossed lips but oh dear lord why did his neck seem so inviting? The last time he checked he hadn’t died and become a vampire, this was definitely his mind running wild.

It had been a while since anyone had intrigued him so much. 

The stranger’s sleeping face was cute, somehow more relaxed than his neutral blank bored stare. Short curls fell over his forehead, Hanamaki wondered what it would feel like to run his hand through it. Would he grow it out?

That position seemed uncomfortable, Hanamaki almost wanted to place a pillow under his head so his neck wouldn’t feel it when he woke up. Almost. After all the man was still a stranger to him, who knew what kind of a person he was?

A person who would stay on his mind, that was for sure.

So what if he’s started to look forward to getting on the train? Loads of people get excited to go on trains. He definitely wasn’t excited to spend the next 40 minutes staring at the handsome stranger. He definitely hadn’t made note of the fact that the handsome stranger would be on the same train 3 days a week, he definitely did not want to sit in the handsome stranger’s seat on the days he wasn’t there. Nope.

Well, maybe he was a little disappointed to find the stranger missing from his seat when he boarded the train. Again, there was limited seats available so Hanamaki chose to stand and ponder what day it was. Today was definitely one of the three days the stranger would be on board, so the question remained, where was he?

Had he missed the train? Was he sick? Did he stop taking the train once and for all?

Hanamaki sucked on his cherry flavoured lip, so lost in thought that he missed all his chances to take a seat. Not that he minded any way. People watching was much more boring when his favourite person wasn’t there.

Huh. Did he really classify this stranger as his favourite person? He could practically hear Oikawa’s squawk of being pushed away from his throne. That couldn’t be right, since when was his favourite part of the day seeing the stranger on the train?

Just as Hanamaki was about to internally scold himself, the train door opened and a panting curly haired male entered. Hanamaki blinked as if to make sure his eyes did not deceive him, his bushy browed stranger was actually here.

He felt lighter, and there was no doubt that a tiny smile made its way to his lips. The stranger looked around, to the right then to his seat which had unfortunately been taken. Hanamaki’s heart almost threatened to stop in his chest when their eyes met – correction the stranger was most certainly trying to kill him when his lips quirked up into a soft smile.

Hanamaki could only force himself to remember how to breathe and flash a small smile back.

He had lost track of how long it had been since the stranger started taking the same train as him. Hanamaki would like to think that he’s done a good job of subtly watching the man during their journeys. On the days the stranger would be on the train Hanamaki left work with a bounce in his step and his favourite song in his ears, coincidently enough it was the song that always played the moment he entered the train to his bushy browed stranger.

The train carriage was less packed today, a few available seats here and there. The seat Hanamaki usually tried to sit in to get the best view of the handsome stranger was taken, making it even harder for him to secure a subtle view of the man. He would have been disappointed had it not been for the fact the seat beside the stranger was free.

Hanamaki would like to think of himself as a confident guy, he goes out in vibrant colours, he would quite happily put a middle finger up to homophobes and flirt a little at clubs. Yet the thought of sitting beside the stranger he had spent weeks admiring somehow left him feeling like a nervous schoolgirl.

His lips were glossed a strawberry flavour, he was reminded of this from the way he sucked on them whilst internally waring with himself to just make the decision to sit down. He eventually moved forward when someone else showed signs of going for the seat because fuck you are you going to steal his chance to sit next to the handsome stranger.

With a final deep breath, Hanamaki plonked himself down beside the man. Thankfully, he didn’t spare him a glance as he did. Which was great because it took a lot to simply sit beside him.

Good. This was going good. He was breathing normally, he wasn’t too stiff, and he surprisingly wasn’t feeling things at the way their shoulders brushed together at the slight rugged movements of the train. He could do this. The only sad thing was he couldn’t see the handsome stranger’s face this way. So Hanamaki settled for looking down at his hands, long fingers with his nails long overdue a touch up with the black varnish. Hanamaki tried to push back the thought of painting his nails for him.

Instead, Hanamaki played with his tongue piercing. He could learn to be content sitting next to the stranger, who seemed to be taller than him even in their seats. Bastard had it all.

Hanamaki very nearly choked feeling a sudden weight on his shoulder. He froze, very slowly turning his head to see what had landed on him. He would pretend his breath didn’t hitch in his chest when he was met with very familiar black curls and a slightly tanned face smushed against his shoulder.

There it was, that soft look on his face that only seemed to come forward in his sleep. From this view Hanamaki could see the man’s eyebrow piercings in all their glory, he wondered what he would look like with a lip piercing. Unbearably hot was the answer.

You couldn’t expect him _not_ to smell the man’s hair in a position like this, Hanamaki would judge anyone who didn’t. It would be their loss on smelling the scent of peaches.

He cursed himself for the way his cheeks warmed and his body refused to move, his muscles would feel it when he got up. Yet Hanamaki couldn’t deny the joy he felt being able to cushion that handsome face for a short time.

He almost forgot about the getting off part to the train, if it wasn’t for the way the stranger yawned and shifted, Hanamaki was sure he would have gotten off in some unknown place purely because he didn’t want to disturb his sleep. He hoped he knew how lucky was.

Hanamaki stilled once again as the stranger sat up, it took him a moment to realise the position he had been asleep in. Hanamaki almost wanted to smirk at the faint blush that dusted over his cheeks, for a reason he really didn’t know. Perhaps it was the refreshing feel for seeing a new expression, sheepishness, on his face or smugness for being the one to cause it rather than receive it. Whatever it was, Hanamaki liked the sight.

“Uh.” The handsome stranger cleared his throat quietly, Hanamaki’s smugness vanished as quick as it came. He had never heard the stranger speak, and somehow it had only just hit him.

“Sorry about that.”

Hanamaki was not about to swoon over a voice. Nu uh. He was not going to replay it in his head, his heart definitely did _not_ do a thing.

“…Thank you…” The handsome stranger spoke again, trailing off in a way that Hanamaki was unsure if he wanted to know his name or was referring to letting him rest. Either way Hanamaki was struggling to maintain his neutral expression and keep down a sudden new wave of thoughts.

With a nod, Hanamaki stood and got ready to depart the train.

It was only once the fresh air hit him, that Hanamaki realised; he missed his chance to speak in return.

Hanamaki felt like a complete and utter fool. Just what kind of person gets a crush on a stranger on a train? In the weeks they had been boarding the same train, he had only heard him speak once. Once. To say six words. Six words he could still clearly hear in his head despite how much time had passed.

Being the one that was teased almost tasted bitter, he had teased and ‘bullied’ Oikawa for so long that it was a natural part of their friendship. He was the point of all Oikawa’s conversations, and questions. He almost wished he never told his friends about this stranger on the train, he supposed it was inevitable with how often he thought about the man.

It had been a while since he experienced a crush, he nearly forgot there was a world outside pointless flirting and one off dates here and there. Hanamaki longed to feel the weight of the man’s head on his shoulder again, he longed to be close to him yet again. He hated the fact he now liked the scent of peaches.

Someone was sat in the handsome stranger’s seat. Hanamaki’s gaze narrowed in on them until eventually he looked around, it had been a while since the stranger hadn’t been on the train on a day he was supposed to. He almost began to worry about the man until he caught sight of familiar black curls.

His handsome stranger was standing, and he had grown his hair out. If there was a god out there, Hanamaki thought, they must really love or hate him. For sending a hot stranger to bless his journeys but not gracing him the ability to act on his fairly prominent crush.

Their eyes met once again, the handsome stranger offered him a smile and Hanamaki is smiling in return before he could even think about it. This stranger would be the death of him.

“I can’t believe you really hung around just to meet this guy.” Hanamaki muttered with a sigh. Part of him was disappointed by the fact he couldn’t listen to his favourite song upon entering the train more than having company.

Of course, Oikawa laughed it off with a wave of his hand. “You couldn’t possibly think that I would sit back and _not_ meet the love of your life, what kind of a friend would I be then?” He asked.

“A good one.” Hanamaki said in reply, stifling a chuckle at the squawk which left his mouth. “Besides, I don’t even know the guy he’s nowhere near to being the love of my life.”

“What a mean thing to say Makki!” Oikawa reprimanded, as the train pulled up to their platform. Hanamaki didn’t bother to try and figure out what he was being reprimanded for, instead he felt a sudden sense of dread at the realisation he would have to spend the whole journey home with his nosey friend.

“Aren’t you getting on?” asked Oikawa, gesturing the train playfully. His excitement was evident.

Hanamaki sighed once more and stepped on board the train. The last thing he wanted was to make it clear the stranger he was crushing on, yet his eyes betrayed him by glancing in the direction he would normally be sat in. The stranger smiled, Hanamaki smiled in return. There was something about his smile that compelled Hanamaki to copy the action. Something about his smile that made him look even nicer.

Naturally, Oikawa had to ruin the moment by nudging his side with his elbow. “Is that _him_?” He asked quietly, thankfully Oikawa had positioned in them in a way where they both had sight of the stranger without looking…well strange.

Hanamaki resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “Piercings and black hair? Yeah.” He answered just as quietly.

Oikawa very nearly whistled, had it not been for the way Hanamaki’s eyes narrowed into a very small but meaningful glare. “He looks a bit like Iwa-chan don’t you think?”

Hanamaki blinked. “What-seriously. Do you _have_ to compare everyone to your fiancé?”

Oikawa one again waved his hand dismissively, “Not _everyone._ I’m just saying there are some similarities, you know. I wonder if your new lover boy would let me shape his eyebrows – eeek! Makki I’m sensitive!”

This time Hanamaki really did roll his eyes, pushing his friend away from leaning against him. “You’re being too loud.” He murmured, casting a quick glance to the handsome stranger. The stranger in turn averted his own gaze but Hanamaki caught the look in his eye.

For the first time in years, Hanamaki worried what someone thought of him.

It had been a week and half since Hanamaki last saw the stranger on the train. Each day that passed holding a different person in that seat made Hanamaki’s heart sink and his mood drop. The stranger had never been missing for more than a few days at most and Hanamaki couldn’t get that look out of his mind.

He wondered if it was the same look he wore now, leaning against the train walls listening to that song that would usually put a bounce in his step. It only served to remind him of the stranger’s missing presence now.

It was no lie that Hanamaki missed the stranger, after all the best part of his week was boarding the train home just to admire him from a far. He wondered if he should have said something when he had the chance, he wondered if he had gotten the wrong message from his friendship with Oikawa, he wondered if he thought of him too.

People watching grew dull once again, messaging Oikawa felt out of the question now as well. Hanamaki had to settle for playing games until his stop eventually came, and he stepped off without a spared glance of the handsome stranger on the train.

Today would mark two weeks since he last saw the handsome stranger on the train. Since then, Hanamaki found no reason to be hyped for going home. Some random song was playing through his ears, one he didn’t care to listen to.

He felt stupid. Stupid for growing so attached to a stranger he still, after all these weeks, knows nothing about. He felt stupid for thinking about him so much outside the train, he felt stupid for feeling so low over not seeing his stupidly handsome face 3 days a week. He felt stupid for feeling reluctant to get on the train.

Hanamaki entered the train with his gaze cast to the floor, what was the point in looking up only to find another stranger in his handsome stranger’s seat? So he shuffled in somberly, taking hold of one of the handlebars.

Black nail polish. Hanamaki almost wanted to laugh bitterly until the thought occurred to him, he slowly looked up instead.

“Thank fuck.”

The words slipped out of his mouth before he could hold them back, heart beating happily once again. The stranger, his handsome stranger, was back. The bastard came back, Hanamaki couldn’t help his breathy laugh of relief.

At least until he realised, he said those words aloud and now the stranger was looking at him in both amusement and confusion. Hanamaki brought his free hand to rub the back of his neck sheepishly, of all the things to say.

“Matsukawa.”

Oh he had missed that voice. Hanamaki must have had a lost look on his face because the stranger chuckled softly, “Matsukawa Issei.” Said the stranger. “My name.” He added just to clarify, he must have thought of him as dumb not to understand that much.

Regardless, it took Hanamaki a few seconds to catch up with what had just been said, or rather what had just happened. Matsukawa Issei, huh he really had it all. The looks, the height, the voice and the name just to top him off. The hot stranger was back, _speaking_ to him. It was as though his world had just been put back together again.

“Hanamaki Takahiro.” Hanamaki eventually answered, a small smile broke out onto his lips.

Maybe taking the train home could become fun again.

Matsukawa Issei was used to being behind the camera. As part of his job he never expected people to spare him a second glance, after all the subject of his camera would always shine bright enough for the both of them. Matsukawa went about his days in relative normality, there was nothing that stood out about him, he didn’t flaunt around what he did for a living and really it was too much effort to try and be noticed.

Matsukawa was content with this, content with not being seen unless needed. If you asked him, he would tell you he was far from photogenic, and talking only seemed like a chore. He would like to think that everything he captured behind a camera spoke a thousand words for him, what the weather was like, how he felt that day. Anything could be answered with a picture or a meme.

Which is why he sat confused and quite frankly self-conscious to be the subject of this stranger’s stare. Babies were one thing, but to have a grown adult stare at him made him worry he didn’t check his appearance before leaving. Did he look weird? Scary? Was his music playing too loud?

Matsukawa almost wanted to raise an eyebrow and ask the stranger just what was so interesting about him, at least until they averted their gaze to their phone and that was that. Well then, maybe the stranger simply liked to stare at people, it was weird, but he could live with it. They weren’t far from interesting either, with their brightly coloured pink and yellow jumper and multicoloured nails. It seemed they had no problem with how visible they were or who cared to look. Confident, pretty too.

He soon tore his gaze back to his phone, disappointed to find the next time he looked up the pretty stranger was gone.

The next time Matsukawa caught sight of the stranger they were wearing something a little more toned down. Still it fascinated Matsukawa all the same. He had felt their gaze on him before he had shifted somewhat uncomfortably, Matsukawa took it as his chance to return the action. From his seat the outdoor light from the windows behind the stranger illuminated their figure, brought forth their features, piercings and…they had a tattoo. Matsukawa had been asked time and time again to join his friends in getting a tattoo, each time he managed to skilfully weave his way out of it.

It wasn’t as though he was scared of it, rather he didn’t want to make the biggest mistake of his life by not thinking it through carefully and having a tattoo he would forever regret. He would get one, some day. For now he wondered what other tattoos the stranger had, Matsukawa could only assume they were brave from their piercings as well. A lovely side labret piercing, ear piercings.

Surely, he was staring far longer than they had stared at him, he forced himself to look away. Matsukawa couldn’t force the thoughts of photographing him flee his mind.

Matsukawa cursed as the doors closed and the train departed, just a second too late. Today was one of the only days he was forced to take the train home and after a tiresome day he didn’t fancy waiting around for another to come.

Quickly, Matsukawa turned and dashed back out of the station. If he was lucky Mizuki would still be outside taking a moment to stop for a cigarette, he could beg for a lift to the next nearest station and catch the train there. It was a lot to simply catch one train, but Matsukawa had his reasons.

Maybe he should have kept to sports outside of school, he was already panting by the time he made it back to the entrance of the station. Thankfully, it seemed Mizuki had just finished his cigarette break and Matsukawa wasted no time in grabbing his arm and dragging him back to the car.

“Oi what’re you doing?! I thought you were on the train!”

“I need to a lift to beat the train.” Matsukawa panted, it only took one pleading look and Mizuki got back into the car. Of course not without a grumble of ‘you owe me’ and a sigh before starting the engine.

Matsukawa was not about to make the same mistake again, as soon as he got past the entrance Matsukawa was darting to the platform announcing his train. The car journey only gave him a short period of rest and he was sure that he would be feeling it in the morning, but the train was already there and Matsukawa was so, so close.

He made it.

He couldn’t even find it in him to cheer, he must look like a mess. His run was probably amusing too, really, he blamed what he was wearing. Still, he had made it. His seat had been taken, and so had all the others it seemed. It would be standing today.

Catching his breath, Matsukawa looked around he almost startled to see the pretty stranger already watching him. Awkwardly, Matsukawa casted a small smile hoping it would be enough to please them. They flashed a smile in return, Matsukawa forgot how to breathe.

Really, Matsukawa should have learned not fall asleep on the train. Once he was out, there was either the chance he would jump awake or sleep for the rest of the day. Matsukawa blamed the pillow, fluffy and comfortable to rest on. Except, the last time he checked there were no pillows on trains.

Confused, Matsukawa slowly blinked his eyes open. He was definitely on a train, which meant…

Fuck when did the pretty stranger sit next to him?

Matsukawa coughed, or rather attempted to clear his throat. He could feel his cheeks betray him as he tried to find the right words to say. “Sorry about that.” He eventually decided on, whatever smug look seemed to be on their face vanished. “…Thank you…” said Matsukawa, for letting me sleep he wanted to add.

The pretty stranger simply nodded, then stood not a moment later. It seemed he woke up in time to let them leave.

Matsukawa couldn’t deny his disappointment at not hearing them speak.

So maybe he had a bit of a fascination with the pretty stranger as well. Maybe he enjoyed anticipating what bright clothing they would be wearing when they boarded the train and maybe he was starting to enjoy their stares in his direction.

It made train journeys interesting, brightened his evenings and motivated him to continue his photography. It wasn’t weird and nor did he have a crush on the stranger on the train.

At least that was what Matsukawa had tried to convince himself. It was going well, his small interest in the pretty stranger that would not evolve into anything more. It was going well until the pretty stranger boarded with a friend.

A pretty friend at that. Matsukawa began to wonder if this stranger gravitated towards pretty people.

Still, he couldn’t hold back his small smile at their entry, and he couldn’t deny the small feeling of happiness that filled him at the smile in return. He tried not watch them, he tried not to feel jealous – because what person gets jealous over a stranger? A stranger he knew nothing about, a stranger he had never heard speak, a stranger too vibrant for the likes of him.

The stranger’s friend leaned in close, yelped at the seemingly playful jab to their side. Matsukawa felt his mood drop.

They were purely strangers to one another, nothing more, nothing less.

They would always be strangers.

Mizuki had been generous enough to take him home the past two weeks, for a reason Matsukawa didn’t push his limits to ask. He managed to worm his way out of being a bother today, getting on the train before Mizuki could call him back. The man seemed cold to many, not one to do favours out of kindness or do things without personal gain. Really, Matsukawa was kinda creeped out by his sudden change.

He had developed a sense of familiarity with taking the train, he missed his seat, he missed gazing out of the windows and he hated to say it, but he missed the pretty stranger. The train would be stopping at their platform now, any second, they would enter with some strange fashion sense and their earphones in.

Matsukawa watched as the doors opened, just as he thought the stranger was the first one to enter. Despite every thought in his brain telling him not to prepare for a smile, Matsukawa could feel his lips twitch. The stranger continued to look down towards the train floor, even as they came to stand in front of him. Matsukawa frowned.

Strangers. The word boomed loudly in his ears. Strangers. He knew nothing about them, he knew not even their name or what they sounded like. It was time he stopped raising his hopes up, time to stop his strange fascination with them.

It was time to come to terms that he meant nothing at all to the pretty stranger.

“Thank fuck.”

Matsukawa looked up at the sound of a deep voice, the stranger was looking directly at him eyes wide and glossy lips parted in what seemed like either shock or relief. Matsukawa was trying to process the fact that he had just heard them speak and holy fuck did that do something to him. Who knew a voice could be so deep?

Eventually it would get awkward just staring at each other in silence, seeing the stranger up close surely couldn’t be good for his heart or his ever changing sexuality. Did they…have freckles? Fuck maybe Kuroo was right, maybe this was heading towards a crush.

Matsukawa decided to throw caution to the wind, it was about time he let his confidence peak through. With a deep breath, he tried to speak to the pretty stranger once again.

“Matsukawa.”

Great start, not even a hello or how are you doing? The stranger looked confused and frankly they had every right to be. Perhaps he should grab back onto that caution. Matsukawa internally shook his head. “Matsukawa Issei.” He continued; he could almost see the gears turning in their head. “My name.”

“Hanamaki Takahiro.” They eventually answered, the train passed by a particularly clear part of the sky, the dying sun shone through on the pretty stranger in front of him. Matsukawa could only describe their smile as a good luck call from god.

He would take it.

It was funny how much you could learn about a person in 40 minutes. Matsukawa never felt happier to leave his work and board that train than he did now. Hanamaki Takahiro could only be described as his soulmate. Matsukawa knew he was being dramatic but Hanamaki was everything he loved and more. Kuroo and Terushima shared some of his sense of humour, but Hanamaki climbed inside his brain and brought to life everything he found funny.

They would nudge each other when they saw a funny meme, Hanamaki introduced people watching to him and they thus proceeded to name random individuals and laugh at their misfortune. Matsukawa felt truly happy for the first time in…well months.

Each day they came across each other on the train, Matsukawa only felt the growing need to raise his camera and capture Hanamaki’s laughing dorky face. He would tease him about his fashion sense and get hit with a comment about needing to leave his prolonged emo-punk phase. Whenever Hanamaki was forced to stand, he chose to start a game of footsies which really just became them kicking one another until someone sent them a glare for being too annoying.

Kuroo had commented on how much happier he had seemed, mentioned it was one of the signs to being in love. Matsukawa wouldn’t take it that far, but the soft way Hanamaki would smile when he saw how tired he was sent a foreign warm feeling through him. The way he would offer his shoulder, with a teasing comment about the time he slept on his shoulder before they were friends, made him sheepish and yet the times he rested against his shoulder were the best naps he ever had.

So maybe he wasn’t in love, maybe it was a crush. Or maybe it was the feeling of finding what he had been missing his whole life.

He was grateful for his awfully awkward introduction to Hanamaki, he was grateful for those 40 minutes a day he got to be in his vibrant presence.

It was only when he felt a tap to his knee and heard a low murmur of ‘oi matsu’ did Matsukawa return to the real world. His eyes blinking open to the gradually empty carriage before him. The announcement above told him that Hanamaki would be getting off, reluctantly Matsukawa sat up.

“Nice nap?” Hanamaki asked, there was that ever teasing tone in his voice. Matsukawa wondered if he would ever know that the times, he napped on that shoulder was some of the best rest he would get.

“Bony shoulder.” Matsukawa murmured, with a yawn. “You should wear that jacket with the fluff again.”

“Try saying that when you’re not snoring away.” Hanamaki snickered, Matsukawa barely managed to conceal a hint of embarrassment. He was saved by the bell, Hanamaki stood. “Try and get some real sleep, you need it.”

With a peace sign and a small, somewhat anxious smile, Hanamaki departed the train.

It was only when Matsukawa stood for his own stop that he noticed the folded piece of paper in his hand.

A business card and a number.

Hanamaki was just about ready to falsely claim the shop was closed and send whoever entered scurrying. It shouldn’t have affected him as much as it did, but Hanamaki was getting real tired of worrying over Matsukawa’s disappearance. Just who was this guy? Disappearing for weeks randomly. Hanamaki thought things were going well, that they were friends. Hell he even got the guy to join him in annoying Oikawa. Guess there was only so much a 40 minute train ride together could do.

They made it so far only to fall right back to the beginning. Honestly, Hanamaki wasn’t sure what he expected to happen. Maybe for Matsukawa to send him a message to acknowledge he had gained his number? A hello? Even a meme would suffice for him. Instead he was greeted by the same names, same notifications, same plain lock screen.

What a jerk. It took a lot out of him just to write his number on the back and slip into his hands the least he could do was acknowledge it. Hanamaki had passed the point of worrying if he had gotten the wrong idea, worrying if he didn’t think they were close enough to exchange numbers, worrying if he had read him wrong. All Hanamaki felt now was anger, annoyance, for Matsukawa disappearing whenever he had wanted to see him most.

To think Hanamaki thought so highly of from their interactions on the train, to think his crush had only grown since they had exchanged names. To think he could be so stupid to realise that they still didn’t know important things about each other so late in their newfound friendship. He was just about ready to declare love dumb and marry cream puffs instead.

Yet Matsukawa still wormed his way into his mind no matter how hard Hanamaki tried to push him away, Matsukawa still caused him to lay in bed and worry for his wellbeing, Matsukawa was still his handsome stranger from the train and Hanamaki still cared.

With a frustrated sigh, Hanamaki sat up from his hunched position at the counter, “Sorry but we’re just closing.” He said monotonously.

“So you work in a Bakery huh.”

Hanamaki’s head snapped up so fast he’d be surprised if he didn’t get whiplash. Unless that was the cause of his thoughts spinning around his head so fast, he could barely make out what he was feeling upon looking up. Shock? Relief? Happiness?

The bastard was smirking, actually standing there sopping wet and smirking. He looked a little like a drowned cat yet handsome all the same, Hanamaki almost questioned his taste. “You- You.”

Matsukawa smiled, and Hanamaki hated the way it erased his anger in an instant. “So you like to worry me huh.” Hanamaki answered, his eyes narrowing.

Matsukawa expression turned to one of guilt and embarrassment, as he should be, Hanamaki thought. Served him right for the nights he’s left Hanamaki to ponder all the actions he had ever made in life.

“Thought a change of scenery of was due.” Matsukawa said wiping his face, “Perfect weather don’t you think?”

Hanamaki rolled his eyes, truthfully, he had been so caught up in his thoughts he didn’t realise the rain had come down in buckets. “You’re a jerk.” He said, chucking towel at his face. “What took you so long?”

Matsukawa huffed a laugh, using the towel to wipe his face then dry his hair. “Would you believe me if I told you I was nervous?”

Hanamaki raised an eyebrow, “So nervous you came to my work instead of messaging me?” He couldn’t help but chuckle as the sheepish look returned to Matsukawa’s face. “I’m glad you came.” He added quietly.

“I’m sorry I took so long.”

Hanamaki hummed making his way over to him, “Better late than never.” He answered. “But just know if you take so long again, I really will drop you for cream puffs.”

Matsukawa laughed, body feeling warm despite the dampness of his clothes. Standing here, right now, without the comfortably loud sound of the trains on the track, without dozens more strangers surrounding them, Matsukawa felt right.

The setting sunlight from the shop doors made Hanamaki’s freckles more prominent and eyes glow a beautiful hazel. Matsukawa has had many beautiful subjects to his photography, but none could ever make him ache to draw his camera out and capture a moment so bad.

Maybe it was too soon to say he was in love, but Matsukawa certainly couldn’t deny that Hanamaki made him feel some kind of way. The pretty stranger from the train, a newly treasured friend.

“I don’t doubt you for a second.”

Hanamaki leaned closer, eyes locking with Matsukawa’s, for a moment there was silence, anticipation. Until Hanamaki reached his hand up, and flicked Matsukawa’s forehead.

With a cheeky grin, Hanamaki stepped back. “Good.”

Every day, at the same time, Hanamaki would take the train home. Every day, Hanamaki would stand at the same station, the same platform, listening to the same playlist waiting for the moment that one specific song would play as he boarded the train.

It was the going home part that made his days worthwhile, for it was the going home part that Hanamaki was greeted with Matsukawa’s dorky smile sat in that same place he owned 3 days a week.

“You know you don’t need to stand.” Said Matsukawa, after a few minutes had passed since their usual greeting. There was no doubt that their friendship only grew since the man had visited Hanamaki at his work, only to realise he’d have to wait around for another train to take him back home. Hanamaki used it as a chance to find out more about his daily life and where he lived. (He had returned to 200 messages from Oikawa demanding an answer).

Hanamaki raised a brow, “I don’t know if you can tell, but there aren’t exactly any seats around.”

He would promptly deny he had ever made the sound he did as Matsukawa tugged at his wrist and sat him down on his lap, and he would definitely deny his face ever turned a deep shade of pink.

“How about here?”

Hanamaki only coughed, taking a second to regain himself. “I liked you better when you were all quiet and awkward.”

Matsukawa grinned, “Yeah well, I like me better when I’m with you.”

Hanamaki couldn’t help but shake his head to hide the smile creeping on his lips. “If you don’t go disappearing on me again maybe we could see each other more often.”

He felt Matsukawa rest his head against his shoulder, and arms around his waist. He had heard from Matsukawa’s friends just how awkwardly nervous he had been to send a message after a few days had passed, despite Matsukawa’s efforts not to come off so pathetic. Hanamaki knew he was sorry and Hanamaki knew what this feeling in his chest was. 

They still had plenty to learn about each other, but Hanamaki could see a future where he could call Matsukawa his handsome boyfriend from the train.


End file.
